Fire
by FreezePride
Summary: Even (Vexen), Lumaria (Marluxia) Logic could never justify emotion, and trying to do so is as futile as dousing the flames. ((MarVex, 411, and some spoilers for The Journey))


Even peered into Lumaria's tent, pulling back the sturdy, vibrant cloth with a careful, patient hand. After all, he was doing nothing wrong, he had no ill intent and yet it felt somehow taboo, as though he were casually flipping through someone's diary. Wrong. Warnings flashed in his mind as he could not help but drink in his surroundings.

The walls of the tent were all but covered in the gaudy, colorful stitchings and gifts of his admirers and well-wishers. Dried flowers, in particular roses, hung form the ceiling in spades, hanging a safe distance from the modest but lively fire burning in the center, keeping the inside of the tent at a toasty, comforting temperature. Why there was a small bonfire burning in the middle of a cloth tent? Even could only strongly assume magic was involved here. Rugs of the most intricate, expensive nature were strewn about the floor and golden trinkets hanging from bracelets and necklaces were carefully set upon an oaken chest, displaying their beauty as they glimmered in the light from the flame. Rubies, emeralds, opals, there must have been countless stones inlaid there, almost begging to be touched and coddled. Even was no fool. He knew a trap for a thief when he saw one. Regardless, it was a good one. A greedier man would not have questioned his 'good luck'.

Glancing up just a fraction more, he caught the glint of the dancing outfit Lumaria wore like a second skin, the swirling lace and silk inlaid with the gemstones which were so lovingly sewn into the garment itself so that it sparkled whatever way it tended to sway. It hung from the wardrobe, reminding him of the infamous sword dance with a prolonged shiver. Unfortunately, he also remembered the glimmer of those blades off of the firelight and the danger he had sensed. That, of course, was not uncommon. Lumaria wore danger like he did beauty.

"You're free to enter, you know." Said a voice behind him that he immediately recognized. Even tensed visibly, sucking in air but fighting the gasp which he knew was instinctive from his surprise. Lumaria had entered his tent not three minutes ago, Even had seen it with his own eyes. How did...? Only that damned assassin could manage to lure him in like this, so very natural and unsuspecting, unguarded. Even took a deep breath and turned to answer but staring down at those expectant blue eyes, he had so conveniently forgotten his point to being there at that moment anyway.

It had been about that dance. Thinking back on the question now, it seemed far too foolish to give it the time of day.

"I saw the light in the tent and I thought it had caught fire." Even justified bluntly. A lie. How brilliant, Even. Lumaria stared at him and the silence stretched between them. Even rolled his eyes in response. "Fine." He groaned. "I was curious."

"Luckily, you're not a cat, my dear scientist." Lumaria smiled warmly, which only put Even more on edge than he already knew he was. He was knotted tighter than the threads of the oriental rugs that the dancer had hanging around as though they were simply beautiful 'trinkets'. "Do come inside." He opened the doorway wider for his visitor.

Even had half expected to be booted out of the tent by the aggravatingly enigmatic man for his sneaky tendencies, but now that he was being catered to, he found it quite hard to refuse the warmth of the space within, the cloying scent those roses. He opened his eyes to find himself being led inward, so subtle, so smooth. He hardly knew he was stepping in all by himself.

Lumaria followed him in, closing the impossibly heavy drapes behind them with a purposeful swipe of his hand. He walked himself over to the small fire to sit before it, folding his legs neatly beneath him so that he could warm his bare skin. And, quite frankly, the dancer was quite bare. The beautiful glimmering garments from earlier were now put safely away, hanging in their place. Lumaria had donned a robe of fine, soft silk. It was a warm shade of yellow in the firelight that rippled across his form. He held up his hands to warm them, glancing up at Even after a breath of a moment.

"You're uncharacteristically silent." Lumaria commented, smirking.

"I'm not accustomed to this sort of..." Even gave an uncomfortable shrug in response. "display."

"Does it upset you?"

"No. It's beautiful." But beauty did not adhere to logic. Beauty was confusing, unpredictable, dangerous.

"Will you sit with me?" That calming tone Lumaria used never seemed to falter. Did those eyes of his even blink?

"I'm quite fine where I am, thankyouverymuch." Even snapped, and yet, there would have to have been a sense of pretentiousness behind his words, a conviction that his ideas were truly the correct ones over Lumaria's. The insult did not ring true. Lumaria did not hear anger or disgust, not even the necessary high-and-mighty bite to his tone. The way Even was standing, crossing his arms protectively over his torso, his refusal to look forward; it hinted at something far different and more familiar, tangible.

"Are you afraid?"

Even sputtered, shooting a venomous look in Lumaria's direction. "Of you? Of course not! Don't be ridiculous!" He continued in a loud huff. Finding the gaze of his companion insufferable in that moment almost as much as he found those words to be in their implication, he snapped his attention pridefully away, as though fishing for a new insult before snapping his attention back. "How dare you-!" but Lumaria was no longer by the fire, sprawled comfortably, warming his body and commenting endlessly.

Lumaria was right in front of him yet again, taking his hand and tugging for him to move forward. He was immediately gripped by the attraction of this invitation, the warmth of this setting, the colors of that flowing fabric, the scent of Lumaria's hair. He knew he should be retreating, beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was nothing safe here, nothing trustworthy and that sense which had worked so faithfully for him in the past was now stoically silent. A morbid curiosity within him wondered if he could elude death twice. The overwhelming majority of his attention was fixed on those eyes and before he could even begin to question the logic of it all, his feet were moving. He was being pulled in.

The gesture was so smooth, so unassuming that he could have been inviting Even to dance. Lumaria saw the fear in his mind, how it caused those cold green eyes to go deliciously vulnerable, yet they were no longer on him.

Even was staring at the fire.

"Let go of me!" The academic hissed, too late it seemed. Lumaria avoided his clumsy clawing hands, his desperate shove. He clamped his hand on Even's slender arm, dragging him forward. Even shook violently, his voice failing him in the wake of his panic.

"So, you're not afraid?" Lumaria repeated, that smooth tone never faltering despite the effort it was now taking to keep the scientist in his grasp as he struggled for the door, shivering uncontrollably.

"Lumaria, let go!" He shrieked, trying to squirm from his grasp.

"And you've forgiven all that's happened between us? It is only logical after all." Lumaria plowed on without a hint of trepidation or the wickedness which his words implied, that same even voice repeating Even's justifications quoted back to him.

"Stop it!" Even's voice broke as he nearly dislocated his shoulder trying to yank himself free. Lumaria held fast, undaunted. It could have been another one of his dance moves. The motion was so smooth, strong, graceful and in the same breath, merciless. He jerked Even forward, holding him just before those hungry flames, almost as though he were an offering at an alter. They roared to life, searing heat pouring forth a Lumaria's summons, filling the tent and lighting them with a threatening ferocity.

Even froze, his legs giving way, his arms held fast by the assassin, his voice stolen. All at once, unbidden, the memories flooded him, filling him with the sound of fire, it's hungry roar as it devoured all before it.

"You cannot forgive me." Lumaria continued, letting the flame die down to it's normal size as he withdrew his magical aid. "I don't doubt that you've tried, but I also know how you awaken from your nightmares, screaming, writhing." Lumaria paused, letting the words settle, wrapping his arms around the other man ever so gently, as though satisfied with how far he had gone and the victory he had won. It was a cat, picking up a bird whose wings it had broken.

"You burn every single night, you freeze yourself by morning." Lumaria whispered. Even shivered, staring into the now calm flames, completely motionless.

"The memory haunts you." Lumaria continued, pulling him ever closer, stroking softly at Even's long hair, attempting to turn his head. Even was having none of it, he was mesmerized if not exhausted. He certainly seemed to be a bit beyond Lumaria's words.

"You cannot understand." Even answered, voice even with listlessness, exhaustion. He spoke so softly, as though admitting it might shatter his will completely. "I smelled my own flesh burning." He swallowed heavily.

The assassin leaned in close, his voice barely above a sigh. "Let me replace that memory, Even. Please. " Lumaria's hand slid smoothly along the other's chest, his torso, settling at his hip. The scent of roses was overwhelming now, the lighting playing tricks with his eyes, making him sleepy, satiated, and that undeniable suggestion of just wanting to lay back. He could just give up. He could give in. It would feel heavenly, he was sure. Physical gratification was a real and extremely tantalizing. Just the warmth of that hand on his body caused a shiver to run through him that had nothing to do with the sickening fear he had been wracked with not a few minutes before. The man was toying with him, with his very emotions and his ability to process them.

"Even." Lumaria trailed, a hand ran through Even's hair while the scientist's mind spun off in directions which he dare not follow. He couldn't trust this man. He dare not trust this man. And yet, there was something that was causing his heart to pound that had nothing to do with this fear of destruction, the expectation of imminent betrayal.

"Even." Lumaria repeated, pulling Even against him, so gently yet so easily. No, there was something beyond these motions, this scent, that tone, those eyes. There was a man here beyond all of this show. Even started with a jolt, as though being shoved out of bed after a particularly long sleep. He snapped his attention to Lumaria as though seeing him for the first time. It was remarkable he had not realized it yet before, he thought he could always recognize a good shield when he saw one.

"Yes." He answered breathlessly. Lumaria was still startled by the abruptness of it. "I'll stay with you tonight."

"Oh-" Lumaria began, only to be interrupted immediately afterwards as Even was wont to do.

"Under one condition." Even continued, undeterred. This was not the voice of a man who begged for his life in the wake of death, this was the voice of one who had witnessed his own death and now feared something far deeper, far emptier. "I don't want to deal with this facade, Lumaria." The man in question paused, his mind jolted from his own mechanizations, his inward celebration that he had finally obtained what he had been striving toward.

"What do you mean?" He asked in undertones.

"_Who are you?_" Even shot back, a harsh demand among endless seductive sweet-nothings, perhaps a bit more powerful than he had meant for his words to be, but he finally had an idea of what this was and where it was going. The chilling demand behind those brilliant eyes of his had locked his companion in place. "Not this glamor, this beauty, this hypnosis. I want to _know you."_

It was Lumaria's turn to be quite speechless as Even leaned in this time. His lips were a breath away from Lumaria's own, but he held, keeping his distance as he let his own slender fingertips trace the curve of the dumbfounded man's cheek. "Am I understood?" In any other context, it was an order. On Even's lips in that moment, it sounded like he a plea.

There was a frozen pause wherein, all that existed was the gentle crackle of the fire endlessly burning, and the unheard turning of thoughts, fantasies, desires to actions.

Without a word, Lumaria closed the space between them.


End file.
